Winger and Walker
by mouseratstan
Summary: Hogwarts' very own Curse-Breaker Wisteria Walker can never catch a break, until her best friend Barnaby Lee finally catches feelings for her, and she feels like she can breathe again. But then, why can't she keep her eyes off that weird Ravenclaw boy? Why doesn't she know his name? And is he a friend... or is he the one sending her transfigured threats?
1. One: Curse-Breaker

Chapter One

Do you ever feel like the world is out to get you? I mean, everyone does sometimes, but I mean _really, really _against you, and you can never catch a break, never take a breath. Even your calmest days are dedicated to overthinking and planning and plotting.

The universe has never liked me. And though they call me the Curse-Breaker, it seems my luck is one curse I just can't break. And today's struggle? The usual chaos that is a mountain of homework, O. to study for, and a completely unmotivated best friend.

"This is stupid," Merula Snyde hisses at my side, her quill laying long forgotten. "If I study for this any longer, my brains are going to explode."

"Yes, and McGonagall will give you detention in your afterlife," I quip, smoothing out my parchment. I'm almost inclined to agree with Merula when I realize I still have quite a few inches left of my essay to write. I groan and grab my face. "She hates us. I'm convinced— she hates us."

"You're telling me," she says. Her essay isn't nearly as full as mine. "She tolerates you, but I'm dirt under her feet."

"_Shhhh!_" Madam Pince's face is bright red, a finger to her lips, and I remember suddenly that we're in the library. _Whoops_.

I drop my voice to a low whisper. "Maybe we should take this to the common room? Or our dorm?"

Merula rolls her eyes. "Then we'll have to wake _this_ lug up, and good luck with that." She gestures towards a softly snoring Barnaby Lee sitting across from us, and I wince. I had forgotten he had come with us— it's not like he did any studying. He's just nice to have around.

Merula is staring across the library, her fingers playing with the feather on her quill. I know better than to say anything about it, but I know exactly what she's looking at, and exactly why. Three girls are studying across from us, and, just like us, very little studying is actually going on. Despite the fact that a Ravenclaw is among them, the three have their heads together, whispering, and I can tell it's rather juicy gossip judging by the looks on their faces. I press my lips together. "You could go and talk to them, you know," I say.

Merula snarls, not meeting my eyes. "Shut up, Wisty, I don't _want _to talk to them, or to her. What business would the greatest witch at Hogwarts have with a lousy, happy-go-lucky Hufflepuff?"

I smirk, seeing right through her act. Merula loved to play tough, but I've known her too long to fall for it. "Strange, I didn't mention any specific girl, and yet you mentioned one," I tease her.

Her face heats up, and in a classic Merula rage, she starts packing up all of her things and shoving them into her school bag. "_Shut up, Walker._" She always likes to resort to calling me by my surname when she's upset, and it never ceases to make me giggle— it's as if we're old school enemies, all the way back to our first year of Hogwarts. "I don't like Haywood. She's likely an airhead. Too girly for my tastes. Very weak. You can deal with Lee, I'm going back to the dorms to find Ismelda."

I only shake my head as she stalks off, highly amused. Still, she can't help but look back at the table of girls before she goes, as if looking to see if they had noticed her. When the library door shuts again, the girls giggle, earning them a warning from Pince. Penny Haywood, blonde and perfect, flips a falling braid over her shoulder and blushes to her roots, before motioning to her friends to quiet down. I can watch Penny Haywood all day— anyone could, I'm sure, she isn't the most popular witch at Hogwarts for nothing.

I force myself to tear my eyes away from her and her friends, knowing that if they notice me, I would only be roped into their conversation. Penny is too sweet for her own good, and rather enjoys seeking me out, even if our Houses find the slight friendship rather strange. The green on my robes and the yellow on hers do not mix very prettily, a fact that Merula has been known to moan about every now and again.

No, now my problem is Barnaby Lee, looking softer than usual in sleep, his cheek squished against his arms. I sigh. I'm going to have to wake him up, hopefully without angering Madam Pince again. I poke his squished cheek, and he doesn't move. _Great_.

I move to sit in the seat next to him, pulling him close and shaking his shoulders. He grunts once, and an arm moves to rub his eyes, but they still remain shut. I'm not sure what else I expected, in all my years of him being my best friend, he has never been easy to wake.

I stare at him for a moment, contemplating ways to wake him up as quietly as possible, but none of them are worthwhile. One arm is now draped across the table, the sleeve of his sweater riding up his arms, and his green Slytherin tie is somehow lying across his arched back, not even tied right around a very loose shirt collar. No, there is only one way I'm going to get Barnaby up and walking, and though it isn't ideal, it seems I have no other choice. I move to sit across from him again to give myself some distance, and then position my foot under the table. I hesitate a moment too long, and then kick right into his ankle.

Barnaby jolts awake, arms slamming into the library table, knees against the wood underneath, and now he's yelling. "I'M UP! What's going on, where am I?"

"_SHHH!_"

"_I'm sorry!" _I moan, hitting my head with my hands, before slapping Barnaby's shoulder. He instantly quiets down, but only in classic Barnaby fashion. That is to say, he's still tripping over himself. Madam Pince stares daggers at the two of us, and Penny Haywood and her friends giggle again. One more noise and I'm certain Madam Pince will explode.

"I'm sorry, Wist, didn't mean to fall asleep," Barnaby whispers, if you can even call it a whisper. His chestnut hair is sticking straight up, looking more disheveled than usual. I can't stay mad at him long, it's not like he means any harm. I've never known anyone as purely innocent as Barnaby.

I smile at him, and he seems to relax. "Don't be sorry," I whisper. "Just, _shhh_." He understands, making a motion with his hands as if to zipper up his lips. I giggle, and the look in his eye as he searches mine is strangely unreadable, as I can usually always tell what Barnaby is thinking. His too-green eyes dilate, and I squint, taking him in. It takes me too long to realize his hand is on mine, as we both had reached for a book to pick up at the same time. A shudder runs down my spine.

_Stupid_, I think at my thoughts, as suddenly my insides are churning, and my hand where he touched me is burning. He hands me the book, which I quickly shove in my bag. He quietly helps me with my quill and parchment, rolling up my essays and placing them gently in my bag, too considerate to be true. Too considerate, or he is only helping me because his own supplies never once left his bag.

"Thank you," I breathe, oddly serious. He isn't catching on, and his goofy smile showcases his usual oblivion.

"Anything for my bestie," he giggles. He _giggles_, like a little schoolgirl, high pitched and full of joy, and I understand very quickly. I push my thoughts away even quicker. Barnaby is very attractive, and very fun to be around. So fun, so soft, that I'm unsure he even understands what a _crush_ is. Does he even think long and hard enough to understand when he might like someone?

I snap out of my Barnaby-filled trance when the library becomes oddly silent, even more so than usual, and I realize Penny Haywood and her friends have stopped talking. A boy has walked into the library, and I wonder how I missed the doors opening to admit him. The strangest thing is, I don't think I've ever seen the boy at all. And yet, he looks to be a fifth year like I am, and he wears Ravenclaw blue and bronze.

He stops next to Penny, strange hazel hawk eyes avoiding the other girls, who start to open their books as if the boy isn't even there. He whispers something in Penny's ear, and the girl frowns. Their conversation is brief.

I nudge Barnaby. "Hey, who is that? I don't think I've ever seen him before."

Barnaby spins around, following my eyesight, and it takes him a minute to see who I'm talking about. It's almost amazing how easily the Ravenclaw boy falls under the radar— but of course Penny knows him. "The Ravenclaw with the slicked hair?" Barnaby asks. I nod. "I _think _I've seen him. Out near the forest I think." He is straining to remember, I can tell, his face screwing up in concentration. I can almost see his brain struggling. "Oh, I dunno, Wist, you know I'm bad at this. I can remember the names of like… three people, max, and one of those is me."

It's too tempting, I have to test him. "What's my whole name?"

He only hesitates for a moment, to his credit. "Wisteria Walker."

I beam at him, and he looks genuinely proud of himself. "D'you know Merula's?"

He takes too long to answer. "Ah… er…" He scratches the back of his head, rubs his chin. "Merula… Does it start with an R?"

I laugh, looping my arm through his. "Not even close." I push thoughts of the Ravenclaw boy out of my mind as Barnaby and I exit the library— why does some random boy matter anyway? Just because I don't know who he is? It's strange, I have to admit, as I've assumed I know just about everyone in my year, from all houses. How can I have managed to miss one?

It doesn't matter. Perhaps I'll ask Penny tomorrow, to satisfy my curiosity. It's nearly curfew now, as I give the password to the Slytherin common room that Barnaby couldn't remember. Safely inside the common room, Barnaby looks at me, his arm still wrapped around mine. Merlin knows he would have gotten lost on the way here if I hadn't been leading him.

"Thank you," he tells me, and I frown.

"What for?"

"For being nice to me," he says, and he's looking me right in the eye, as sincere as he can be. "You're always being nice to me, and doing nice things for me, and you're not a jerk because I'm slow sometimes. I really like that about you, Wist."

I have no idea where this all came from, but now my limbs are numb. "Oh," I say, and I curse myself for my lack of response. But what am I supposed to say? "Oh, Barnaby, I—"

"Wisteria! There you are." My words are cut short as fellow Slytherin Liz Tuttle comes running towards us from the girls dorms. I breathe a sigh of relief— I genuinely had no clue what I was going to say to Barnaby, too terrified of messing anything up with him.

"Hey Liz," I greet her, and Barnaby waves cheerfully. It's like he doesn't even understand what was just interrupted.

"I've been looking all over for you, and so was Charlie Weasley," Liz says.

I blink. "Charlie Weasley? What does he want?" I haven't spoken to Charlie Weasley since the beginning of the year, when we were both assigned Prefects. I had always rather enjoyed Charlie's presence, and he was always a great friend, but House pressure on both sides making talking to each other difficult sometimes. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor were not supposed to get along.

"He told me to give this to you, when he couldn't find you around. Reckoned you'd be with Merula somewhere." Liz holds up a black quill feather, and my heart drops in my chest. _Not again. Please, not now. _"He told me it's probably important, that he found it in that Artefact Room people like to hide in. He told me to tell you that, just in case."

With shaking fingers, I take the quill. "Thanks Liz," I whisper, and she walks off, likely back to the dorms. I'll have to talk to Charlie later. Tomorrow. But for now, the quill.

Barnaby remembers. As he should. He's almost died, dragged along with me on these past adventures. He frowns, touching my shoulder for comfort. "Is that…?"

"Yes," I confirm. "Yeah, I think it has to be. One way to find out."

I pull my wand from my robes and set the quill on a nearby table, whispering the spell under my breath. The quill begins to transform into torn parchment, and though I expected it, seeing the note still tears me apart, a wrench in my gut, and I'm reminded of my quest, of my brother, of my _Curse-Breaker _title all over again. Barnaby squeezes my hand as we both read the four letters written in clean ink on the transfigured note:

"_I'll be watching you."_


	2. Two: Double Potions

Chapter Two: Double Potions

Charlie Weasley sits across from me in the Great Hall, early in the morning, many students not even awake yet. His hair is tied and mine is loose. His robes are mussed and scarlet and mine are neat and emerald. Our heads are close together, the note from last night between us.

"I don't understand," he says, his red brows furrowed. "You've never gotten a note like this before. It's not signed by R. D'you think it's addressed directly to you?"

I shrug. "I mean, who knows? They haven't always been just for me. For all we know, it means nothing at all. I'm not sure whether to act on it or not."

Ever the Gryffindor, Charlie says, "Better safe than sorry, right?"

I bite down on my lip— a rather tragic habit, if I do say so myself. "Maybe. Maybe I'll just… keep an eye open, for now. Watch people. See if anything strange happens or if anyone is acting suspicious."

"Does anyone else know about this, besides you and me?"

"Barnaby was with me when I opened it. And I told Merula before we went to sleep."

"And you're sure you can trust them both?"

My expression turns grave. "With my life."

"Did someone say my name? Or am I hearing things… again." I jump at the interruption, but it's only Barnaby, looking as if he dressed himself in the dark. There are dark circles under his eyes— he didn't get much sleep. "Oh, hey Wist! Hi Char— oh my Merlin, are those breakfast pastries?"

He sits himself down next to me and immediately begins stuffing his face with breakfast. I watch him for a moment, transfixed, wondering just how much he can really eat before he can't take it anymore. I am lost for a minute, and then Charlie clears his throat.

"Maybe I ought to go, Wisty," he says, and his eyes linger on Barnaby. "More people are coming in and I'm, as they say, _fraternizing with the enemy_." He laughs aloud at the ridiculousness of the statement, even if deep down, we both know the House feud runs deep. "Besides, I said I'd help Ben out before Potions class. I'll see you then?"

"Ben Copper?" I raise an eyebrow, and try not to laugh. "He still shacking up with Rowan Khanna?"

Charlie shoulders his bag and makes a face. "You laugh, but they're weirdly perfect for each other. I'm not sure anyone else could handle either of them. Rowan usually helps him with Potions, but I guess she's not around today. He won't have her in class with him anyway."

I smile. "Go on and do your duty then, Weasley. I'll be watching you in Snape's."

He flicks my shoulder, all playfulness. "Bye, Walker."

Barnaby is watching me, chewing on a pastry. "I haven't seen Charlie over here in a while."

I nod, picking at the food on my plate. I haven't touched any of it. "I know. But I had to talk to him about that note."

He frowns, setting down his food. He reaches for my hand, and I am comforted by the action. His hands are large, and warm. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out, Wist. I'll protect you. You know that, right?"

He is oddly serious, looking me in the eye. He's worried, too worried. "Barnaby…" I whisper, and my fingers almost reach to touch his eye, where his dark circles still stand out. "You didn't sleep much, did you?"

"I couldn't," he says. "I just kept thinking about you and the note. I feel like I need to do something."

I shake my head. "Nothing needs to be done for now, okay? For now… I just want to eat breakfast and spend time with you before we have to go to Potions."

It doesn't take him much convincing. He obliges, and his smile is so contagious, I can't help but smile back.

Double Potions with the Gryffindors is always nothing if not entertaining. As usual, my partner is Merula, who scurries into her seat next to me at the front of the classroom with an obvious huff. Students are still slowly filing in.

"Tough morning?" I ask her as she slams her cauldron on the desk, before folding her arms across her chest.

"Stupid Gryffindors," she mutters under her breath, staring at them as they file into seats behind us. Charlie Weasley tosses me the quickest of waves, carting a terrified-looking Ben Copper behind him. "Stupid Gryffindors and their stupid faces."

I quirk a brow at Merula's vague explanation. "What did they do this time?"

Her fists clench. "Couple of seventh year Gryffindors got at me because I was _stupid _enough to almost talk to Haywood. They're real lucky I had to get to class, else I woulda cursed them with boils for the rest of their miserable lives—"

"_Cursing Gryffindors_?" Ismelda Murk makes her entrance in her usual fashion, intrigued by all things dark, setting her cauldron up next to Barnaby, her usual partner. "Can I join?"

I laugh, rolling my eyes. "Nobody is cursing any Gryffindors. Not yet, anyway."

Ismelda deflates instantly, sinking into her seat. Her eyes land on Barnaby, as if just now noticing him, and flashes such an uncharacteristic smile that it looks awkward on her. "Oh… hi Barnaby." Her voice gets higher pitched, her fingers tugging on a strand of thin black hair.

Barnaby smiles back, giving her a tiny wave. "Hi, Potions-Buddy!"

She gives an over dramatic giggle, and Merula reacts with a rolling of her eyes that only I can see. I can't help but smirk.

Potions goes about as it usually does, with Professor Snape intimidating the Gryffindors so fiercely that they wilter under his gaze, most if not all having extreme difficulties with today's Potion. Points are given to his favorite Slytherins, and many points taken from slacking Gryffindors, so much so that Ben Copper nearly bursts into tears in front of his ruined and improperly bubbling potion.

Merula and I laugh behind our hands at the scene— it is far too easy to giggle at a cowardly Gryffindor.

Nearing the end of the Double Potions period, Merula and I are given a slight rest, our potion finished and marked as perfectly well done, ten points to Slytherin rewarded. She sits back, hands folded and resting on her head. "Too easy," she says. "You'd think Copper would get a potion right by now, d'you think? We're only on our _fifth year_."

I giggle. "I'm not sure he knows his way around anything, quite honestly. I heard him and Khanna are together."

Merula chokes on air, hardly attempting at all to stifle her laugh. "You don't say? Khanna, that Ravenclaw buzzkill? You think she'd teach him a thing or two."

"No, just hands him off to Weasley to babysit, I s'pose."

Behind us, a ridiculously loud _clang _shakes us out of our conversation, the entire classroom spinning around. Ben Copper has dropped his cauldron, leaving his ruined potion rolling across the floor.

"_Useless!_" Professor Snape yells, and with a wave of his wand, the spilled potion disappears. "Absolutely pathetic, Copper, another ten points from Gryffindor for plain carelessness. And Weasley! Watch him closer next time."

Both Charlie and Ben Copper are red in the face, but Ben isn't looking at Snape. No, he's looking at Merula, and at me. The look in his eyes says it all.

"He heard us," I whisper to Merula, a strange feeling twisting in my gut. "Copper, he heard what we said about him."

Merula waves this off, looking unbothered. "Oh, who cares? Maybe it'll compel him to work harder next time."

"Professor Snape?"

A voice I've never heard before, deep and like honey, strangely close to me. And yet, I hadn't heard the footsteps that should've come with it. The Ravenclaw boy from yesterday stands next to our table, only inches from me, and I see him in detail. The tan of his skin, his slender fingers, holding a tightly wound scroll, how he isn't that tall and how light he is on his feet. I never even heard the door to the classroom open— how in the world _did he do that_?

"This is from Professor Sprout, sir, she said to deliver it to you," he says. He is speaking clearly, but it's still hard to hear him.

Snape takes the scroll, hardly even looking at the Ravenclaw boy before he waves him out of the classroom. The boy wastes no time, and I stare as he goes. And then perhaps even stranger still, _he stares back at me_.

Odd, almost yellow eyes, resembling those of a hawk, stare at me, meeting my gaze, and he doesn't let go until he's outside the classroom, away from my line of sight. The door closes behind him far too silently.

Four words echo in my thoughts, suddenly.

"_I'll be watching you._"

I don't even remember class ending, the next thing I know, I'm walking besides Merula as we head to Ancient Runes. I don't mention to her the Ravenclaw boy. I know exactly what she would say. She would want to follow him immediately. And I'm not quite ready yet to go all in— not without talking to a couple people first.

Barnaby and Ismelda walk in front of us, far too ahead to hear us, as Ismelda practically drags him through the halls. Merula snickers. "She's far too obvious. Ought to tone it down a notch."

I blink. "Ismelda? About what?"

"About her crush on Barnaby, are you blind, Wist?" she sneers. "Just look at her! She told me a couple days ago she thinks she likes him, but I didn't think she'd get this clingy and girly and _weird_."

An odd feeling stirs inside me, and I swallow a rock in my throat. Ismelda has a crush on Barnaby. No big deal. She's allowed to have a crush on whoever she pleases. "Yes, because you've never had a crush on anyone," I retort, thinking of perfect Penny Haywood.

Merula stomps her foot. "I do not! I never have! Haywood is _stupid_—"

"Again," I smirk, "I never mentioned a name."

Merula goes red, and doesn't speak for an hour.


	3. Three: Corridor Kisses

Chapter Three: Corridor Kisses

I feel his eyes on me all the time.

And yet, I never see him. Everytime I feel someone watching me, I know he's there, and maybe I'll occasionally catch a glimpse of slicked brown hair, but it never lasts, not for any longer than a few seconds at a time. The day I finally do see him, the day he speaks to me for the first time, oddly enough happens to be the day Barnaby kissed me.

He catches me before Transfiguration, right outside the door, his hand on my wrist.

"Barnaby? Hey!" I say. "We ought to go inside, we can sit together, yeah?"

It takes me a second, but I recognize the look on his face. He's sad. He's hardly ever sad. "Wisty, do you think we can talk a second?"

I frown at his expression. "Sure, but it's got to be quick, McGonagall will lose her mind if we're late to class, don't want to lose more points from Slytherin."

"This'll only take a second." His hand, big and fumbling, moves from my wrist to my hand, and he feels warm. He comforts me just with his fingers intertwined in mine. "I feel like I don't speak my mind enough. I mean, I do, all the time, because things confuse me and I don't think and then I just kinda say things…" He pauses, looking lost for a moment. I squeeze his hand and he seems to come back to life. "So I guess I speak my mind a lot. But what I _mean _is, I don't think I'm all emotional enough. And I want to be more… emotional with you. Because I think you're great and I want to be here for you."

I'm too used to understanding what Barnaby means in between the babble, but today is different. "What are you saying?" I whisper.

"What I'm saying is that… I'm not good with words, Wisty, everyone knows that. But I think I'm good at actions and maybe I can show you what I mean." And… he kisses me. Right in front of the Transfiguration classroom, right as students push past us down the corridor, right as Professor McGonagall steps outside and I'm too enthralled in kissing Barnaby to move away from him when I should.

McGonagall sighs, resigned to this display, and Barnaby and I still stare at each other, this time red in the face with embarrassment. I can't help but think he looks cute when he's flushed. "Ten points from Slytherin, Mr. Lee, Miss Walker. Inside the classroom, now."

I barely remember the class that takes place, remembering only Barnaby and the looks we steal as McGonagall drones on and on. I've thought about kissing Barnaby before— something I've admitted only to Merula in the secret of our dorm rooms at three in the morning, but I've never once thought it could be a reality, something that he would initiate. To be perfectly honest, I always thought Barnaby was so trapped in his own little world inside his head that he would never see anyone else, not romantically. It was hard to believe Barnaby noticed anything at all.

He whispers something in my ear about meeting at dinner, and I barely hear him as his lips so close to my face sends a chill down my spine. Leaving the classroom for my free period, I find myself wandering a corridor I don't remember approaching, a ridiculously large smile on my face, not watching where I'm going, _clearly._

Next thing I know I'm on the floor, and so is the mysterious Ravenclaw boy across from me.

"Watch where you're going, will you?" he snarls, and his voice is nothing like I've imagined. I pictured rough, gravelly, something aggressive to match the odd feeling he gave me as he watched me. Instead, it's smooth, soft, something barely used, almost gentle in nature even as he's berating me. He rubs his brown hair on the back of his head, where it seems a bump is forming. I recognize pain in my leg where I landed.

I understand that I'm still smiling like an idiot, and quickly wipe it from my face. "Oh, I'm sorry," I say, taken aback. "I'm usually much more careful than this."

"Are you?" he sneers. His eyes pointedly refuse to meet mine, something which sets me off immediately.

"Who are you to say anything anyway, huh? Stalker, much?" I hiss at him, and his eyes narrow, while still not meeting mine.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't even know you." He's quiet now, even more than before, almost robotic. He stands, and I do too, refusing to be placed below him, despite the fact that he's quite a bit taller than me.

"_Exactly_, you don't even know me. Don't act daft, I see you staring at me."

"You don't _see _anything."

My hands curl into fists, and I fight the urge to stomp the ground in frustration. "You're weird, you know that? Spend time with your friends, or Penny Haywood, or—"

"You know I talk to Penny Haywood? Now who's the stalker?"

I want to scream. "_Everyone is friends with Penny Haywood."_

"Not me," he insists. "I only talk to her. I don't have friends, they're a waste of time."

"You're sad," I say. "That's… that's sad."

"You get one kiss and decide that I'm sad? You're the one that's setting herself up to get hurt."

"_Barnaby would never_— how do you know he kissed me?"

The Ravenclaw boy rolls his eyes. _Striking eyes. _"You only kissed in the middle of the corridor in front of everyone. No shame, do you?"

This time I actually do scream, and stomp my foot. I decide I'll have to ask Penny about him, as soon as I can get her alone. I've almost never met someone as frustrating as… "What's your name, anyway?"

He smirks then, and it makes his face look softer, slightly nicer. "Wouldn't you like to know?"


End file.
